Smarter Than That
by KathrynElaineDarling
Summary: Quidditch League Finals-a forbidden love hits the rocks.


**A/N** : This story was written for the Finals of the Fourth Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 2 for The Wimbourne Wasps.

 **Name of round** : Whose Line is it Anyway?

 _The Harry Potter books and movies have given us endless amounts of great quotes, and some of these will be the stars of this round. Each prompt is a quote that is widely associated with one particular character, but it's your job to make somebody else say it in your story. You may not change anything about the wording of your given quote as written below, nor can you work around this task by making a new character simply quote the original speaker._

 _Try and change the context or tone of the original line if you can. Remember that only one other person will be writing the same prompt as you, so standing out and being creative will be important when it comes to judging._

Since I'm on the Wimbourne Wasps, my prompt is to use the quote by Vernon "No post on Sundays"

 **Prompts used** :

4\. (word) gloves

7\. (word) tenderly

11\. (word) music

 **Word Count** : (given by Google Docs) 1463

 **Smarter Than Expected**

The flat was well lit with string lights of all colors and presents of all shapes and sizes were on the floor, surrounding a lavish tree that was meant to represent the couple that lived there. Hermione had spent hours decorating to make sure that this Christmas, their third one as a couple, would be special. She hadn't mind hanging up the green and silver ornaments as much as she once had. Besides, the Slytherin green ornaments did not only represent Draco's past, but they went well together with her Gryffindor red ones, and combined they made up the colours of the holiday season. Draco had never really enjoyed the season, but he tolerated it for her. However, claiming to not care for the holiday had never stopped him from kissing her tenderly under the mistletoe whenever he caught her under one. He often found excuses to bump into her in the kitchen entry, where she'd been hanging one for the past two years.

"Everything seems to be in order," she whispered to the empty room, excited over her accomplishment.

Music was playing softly in the room, travelling from the piano she had charmed to play Christmas classics. She had needed something to hum to while she strung the lights around the room with her wand. She was proud of everything she had managed to get done, even being at work that morning. She had not only decorated their home, she had also fixed their Christmas Eve dinner which they would enjoy with their friends, she had baked her famous cookies with cherry icing, and she had found the golden gloves that Ginny had been wanting for months at the store. It had been a very productive afternoon.

"I forgot to wrap the gloves!" Hermione shouted, rushing around trying to figure out where she had put them.

She didn't understand how she could have forgotten where she put the gloves when they were the very last thing she purchased. She tried to summon them with a briskly spoken 'accio', but they never came. When she walked by the front door, she realized that they were stuck underneath her purse, which was acting up by getting incredibly heavy at times as her feather-light charm was wearing off. With a heave, she put the bag on the floor and retrieved the gloves, sighing heavily in relief. When she went to move, her foot caught the leg of the foyer table, and it fell over. As she reviewed the damage, everything was sprawled out all over the finished hardwood floor including all of their mail for the past week and the contents of her purse, which had been knocked over by the falling table.

She would have begun to clean up everything if a certain rose colored letter hadn't caught her eye. She must not have seen this letter yesterday, and she decided that she should see who it was for, but when she flipped it over, she wished that she hadn't.

It was addressed to Draco from a Miss Tiffany Spencer. Hermione wouldn't have minded so much if she hadn't already known that Tiffany was Draco's pretty, new assistant. She also wouldn't have been bothered by a letter that was just plain white, but this one was decorated with hearts that were shooting all over the paper. Hermione wanted to open the letter and read its contents, to see if it was as she feared, but she didn't want to be that girlfriend. She didn't want to be one of those girlfriends who obsess over what their significant other was doing at all hours of the day. She had never felt cause to question his motives before, and she didn't want to start now.

She raised the table, and in hopes that he would see it, and put her mind at rest, Hermione put the letter on top, beginning to make a separate stack for all the other papers. He must not have seen it yesterday either.

At that moment, she heard the door unlock and Draco walked through it, but he wasn't paying any attention to anything else except the papers that were in his hand. He didn't even notice all the hard work she had done to decorate the flat. He definitely didn't even notice that she was there until he ran right into her.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry I-"

That was when he noticed all of the decorations and the wonderful smells of cooking food and baked cookies that flooded through the flat together with the melody of 'Silent Night'. Hermione, however, was still stuck on the letter that waited for him on the table. She kept glancing between Saturday's mail and his face to see his reaction to the decorations.

"It definitely looks like Christmas in here," he commented, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek.

"Does that mean you like it?" Hermione asked, pushing a smile through.

"I don't hate it," he commented.

"That's good enough for me," Hermione answered. "Now come and get some hot cider. I have a present that I want you to open before everyone gets here."

He sighed heavily and turned his attention back to the papers he had not let go of. She could sense the tension that had been appearing off and on for a couple of weeks. For the same amount of time Tiffany had worked as his assistant. It was the reason she had tried so hard with the decorations. His eyes found the pink envelope.

"I wish I could join you for that drink, love, but I have to head back to the office," he said quickly.

"You just got home," she said.

"I know, but I need to go back to the office and receive the post," he answered shortly.

"The post? Doesn't it come-" she started, but he cut her off.

"I only came home to let you know, and to grab these letters," he said, grabbing said letters and heading out the door but not before putting his bag by the door. "I'll be right back," he said over his shoulder. "It shouldn't take me long. I should be back in time for dinner." The door slammed shut.

Hermione just stood there, dumbfounded, abandoned in the midst of all her hard work. She felt embarrassed and completely idiotic. She wasn't sure why he thought that going back to get the post was a good excuse.

"I can't believe he doesn't know I'm smarter than that," Hermione said in complete disbelief.

That very moment, there was a swooshing sound in the living room as someone Flooed in.

"Merry Christmas!" Ginny shouted, walking into the room, brushing away some soot from the fireplace.

"He made it so obvious."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, her smile falling flat as she took in Hermione's demeanor.

"I guess I should have expected it."

"Are you okay?" Ginny wondered, staring at her friend quizzically.

"Did you know that there's…" she stopped what she was saying when she saw who she was saying it to.

She looked into those brown eyes that had always been so quick to fill with worry whenever Ginny knew something was up. It was the same look she received the day she'd told Ginny that she and Draco were dating. Hermione didn't want to worry her anymore and ruin her holiday. It was enough that her own had been ruined.

"No post on Sundays," Hermione informed.

"Muggle post? Well, of course, you won't get any of that on Sundays, but it's also a holiday. Were you expecting a package?" Ginny wondered, relieved that it wasn't something more serious.

"Yes but, uh, I guess I'll have to wait," she lied.

"That's the worst part. Did you make these cookies?" Ginny asked, spying into the kitchen before turning back to Hermione and excitedly rubbing her belly.

"Yes. Can I get you a drink?" Hermione asked, ignoring the pang of sadness threatening her body to shut down.

"A butter beer would be delicious. The others will be here soon. Harry had some last minute shopping to do."

"I'll whip you up a drink then," Hermione answered, forcing the smile through.

"What about you?"

"I think I need something a little harder this time around," Hermione told her.

Every ounce of Hermione told her to rip down the ribbons and lights as well as burn his presents to ash. However, she had friends over who needed a good holiday and she wasn't going to stand in the way of that. In her head, she could mentally burn the mistletoe that she watched sway lightly with merriment from the arch. In her mind she could burn it again, and again, until the flames of their passion cooled and died.


End file.
